Chapter 15
Charlotte stepped into the breakfast room and immediately caught Miranda’s eye, then tilted her head meaningfully. Without exchanging a word, it was understood between them that they would take the far end of the long table, away from the prying chatter of other guests.
Charlotte moved briskly to a side table and helped herself to a cup of tea and a breakfast of honey cakes, brioche with plum jam, and some kind of cake containing caraway seeds and ginger. It smelled divine, and her stomach rumbled as she carried her tray to the secluded end of the table.
Miranda sat down beside her, bearing her own breakfast—only a black tea and single slice of brioche—and gave Charlotte a small conspiratorial smile. “I thought the duke seemed very interested in you yesterday in the library.” She kept her voice low so that only Charlotte could hear.
“Do you think?” Charlotte’s heart gave a little flutter.
Before Miranda could reply, Genevieve and Felicity joined them, with Adeline not far behind. In the same hushed tone, Miranda told them about bumping into the duke in the library.
“He seemed to disappear after that,” Charlotte said despondently. She had looked out all afternoon and evening for Henry, but he must have been otherwise occupied.
Helena settled into the chair opposite them. “I did see him briefly in the music room. Not that I had a chance to talk to him about Charlotte as my parents were too busy trying to matchmake.” She shuddered, looking embarrassed. “It was mortifying.”
Adeline patted her hand in sympathy. “Everyone wants his time, of course. I was thinking; I have a walk planned for tomorrow. Perhaps we could arrange it so that he accompanies us and you and he walk together. That will give you some proper time with him, like you had at the lawn bowls.”
Miranda’s eyes lit up. “A walk? Yes, that would be splendid. We must ensure he has plenty of time with Charlotte.”
“And maybe we can work out some way to have you nearer to him at dinner,” Helena suggested, lowering her voice further. “A change in seating, perhaps, so you won’t be so far away and lost in the crowd.”
Charlotte brightened at the thought, but before she could say more, a chair next to her was scraped back, and William sat down.
“What are we all discussing so keenly?” he asked. His presence silenced the murmuring conversation instantly. All eyes turned toward him.
“None of your concern, sir,” Helena said, half in jest, yet with a note of challenge in her voice.
William’s interest was piqued as he leaned forward. “Now I am truly curious. What secret designs are you ladies concocting this fine morning?”
A ripple of laughter died away as the table fell silent. No one knew quite where to look, except for William, who turned questioning eyes on his sister.
Charlotte cleared her throat and managed, “We were simply discussing our plans for tomorrow. A walk, perhaps.”
“Then why the secrecy? Perhaps one of you has caught the attentions of a gallant young gentleman?”
William was joking, but it was too close for comfort.
Charlotte flushed, glancing quickly at her friends for support. “Nothing so daring, brother; I simply wish to have some time to talk to my friends without a throng of guests between us.”
Before William could press further, a brisk voice interrupted them.
“Prepare yourselves. In an hour, the dowager duchess will have all the young ladies perform their musical talents.” The voice belonged to Genevieve’s mother, who had swept up to them with all the brisk authority of a lady in charge of an orchestra.
“Hurry, Genevieve—you need time to practice. Which of your friends will be supporting you?”
A murmur went through the group as Genevieve’s face fell. “Must I, Mother?” she whispered, silently pleading with the others to rescue her.
“Yes, you must, Genevieve. Why else do I spend all that money on a music tutor? Perhaps Charlotte will play the pianoforte also?”
Charlotte opened her mouth to find some excuse, but William answered for her. “I’m sure my sister will be delighted to play for the duchess.”
Charlotte turned to him in horror as Mrs. Flynn swept away, looking satisfied.
“William…” she began.
William interjected gently. “Charlotte, you must support your friends. It isn’t like you to shirk your duties.”
Charlotte sighed as she saw Genevieve’s pleading expression and looked around at the expectant faces. “Very well, I suppose I shall play a song on the pianoforte,” she conceded. After all, her friends were doing so much for her. It would be selfish of her not to participate.
The meal continued in a subdued atmosphere as the ladies finished their breakfast, unable to continue their plans with William in attendance. Instead, conversation ebbed and flowed between light chatter about the weather and murmurs of anticipation about the upcoming musical performance.
Charlotte, still thinking of her plans for tomorrow, cleared her throat softly as she set down her cup.
“After we finish here, I’d like to take a wander in the garden, ladies,” she announced.
“A bit of fresh air might do us all good, no?” And it would allow them to get away from William and resume their discussion.
Her companions exchanged glances and nodded in agreement.
“Good idea, Charlotte. Let’s go,” said Miranda, taking the lead as usual.
Poor Genevieve took her leave and headed off to practice for the recital.
They rose, gathered their shawls, and stepped out through a side door in the drawing room and into the rose garden. With its winding gravel paths and clusters of blooming flowers, the garden provided a welcome respite from the clamor of the dining hall.
As they strolled, they encountered a group of mothers gathered around a garden table, animatedly discussing the latest social news.
Sensing that this was not their hoped-for refuge, Charlotte and her friends discreetly veered off onto a quieter path lined with climbing roses artistically arranged over pretty wooden trellises.
They soon walked into a giggling group of young ladies, and Charlotte realized there would be little time before the recital to resume their chat. How unfortunate.
Before long, the soft opening strains of the musical session began to drift from a nearby hall as the players tuned their instruments, and they made their way into the recital and took their seats.
“Do you know what you’re going to play?” Felicity whispered to Charlotte.
“Something by Bach,” Charlotte whispered back. “Something boring but safe.”
Felicity nodded. “Good choice. Keep it simple. I doubt the duke will be here.”
“No,” Charlotte said. “I know he detests these things.”
A couple of refined singers started the program, their voices melding in perfect harmony. A talented violinist followed, eliciting appreciative murmurs from those gathered. Then, poor Genevieve stepped up.
Though her performance was marked by trembling fingers and a quavering tone, she pushed through with earnest determination.
Finally, it was Charlotte’s turn. With a deep breath, she approached the pianoforte.
The room was hushed with expectation, and as she sat down, she could feel eyes on her.
She hated performing in public like this.
Her own fingers trembled at first, but as she began to play, the notes, soft and tentative, slowly grew more confident.
Thank goodness that Henry was absent, sparing her the embarrassment of her rusty skills.
When the music came to an end, Charlotte and her friends gathered in a corner to chat.
Adeline frowned, motioning toward another group of young ladies who were muttering amongst themselves and casting glances their way. “Are they talking about us?”
“Sssh,” Genevieve hissed. “They’re coming over.”
As they turned and smiled politely, one of the more forthright young women, Miss Brighton, skewered Charlotte with a sharp look. Miss Brighton had tight blond pin curls and was wearing the season’s latest bonnet in a shade of pink that clashed awfully with her complexion.
“Charlotte,” the other girl began briskly, “you must stop monopolizing His Grace’s attention.”
“Excuse me?” Charlotte gasped, her cheeks heating.
“How rude, madam!” Miranda snapped, glaring at Miss Brighton. “Charlotte does not monopolize, she is old friends with His Grace.”
Not at all intimidated by Miranda, Miss Brighton snorted in derision and addressed Charlotte again. “Old friends? You’re the sister of his friend, yes, but do let the rest of us have a chance. It’s not as if he’ll ever actually choose you for himself.”
Felicity gasped at the woman’s remark, and Adeline tutted in disapproval, but Miss Brighton’s companions nodded in agreement with her.
Charlotte’s cheeks burned even hotter as she stammered an apology. “I’m sorry. I mean, I don’t intend to monopolize him.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. It was all she could do to meet their eyes.
Miss Brighton’s expression was hard. “You need to remember your place, dear. Sometimes, you must let others have their moment.”
The words struck Charlotte sharply, and she turned away, humiliation sweeping through her. One of the other girls laughed as though Miss Brighton’s insult had been incredibly witty.
Mortified, Charlotte could only lower her face, feeling the weight of the reproach. She hurried away from the group, hot tears stinging her eyes.